


The Dangling Conversation

by darthmelyanna, miera



Series: stargate_ren [8]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Renaissance, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-04
Updated: 2007-02-04
Packaged: 2019-02-06 20:22:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12825348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darthmelyanna/pseuds/darthmelyanna, https://archiveofourown.org/users/miera/pseuds/miera
Summary: Samantha Carter sets out to solve a mystery lingering from the events during the Solstice celebration.





	The Dangling Conversation

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to both miera_c and melyanna for their help in getting this ready for posting. *hugs them both*

Much to her relief, the teapot was still steaming when Samantha Carter entered the dining area of the apartments she shared with her father. The winter chill had settled over the island like a blanket. The servants did their best to keep the palace of Atlantis warm, but the rooms were made of stone, and the tapestries and fires could only do so much to ward off the bitter cold.

Seating herself at the small table, Samantha said to the other occupant, “Good morning, Father.”

Sir Jacob Carter looked up at her from the papers he had in his hand, clearly surprised. “Good morning,” he replied. “Aren’t you up early? I thought the construction efforts were delayed for another day.”

She nodded as she poured herself a cup of tea. “They are,” she informed him. “But there is still much more for me to do.” She made a sour face. “Master McKay has little patience to do the paperwork, so much of it falls to either me or Captain Pendergast, and I have not visited the Asgard sanctuary in some time. Thor will be most cross with me for neglecting our experiments.”

“I see,” he said slowly, eyeing her. Silence reigned for a brief moment, until Jacob commented, “I see you’re still wearing that little trinket.”

Samantha looked up from her breakfast in confusion. “Father?”

He gestured vaguely towards her neck and her hand came up in response. Her fingers quickly touched upon the pretty snowflake charm that had adorned her neckline since the Solstice celebrations. “Oh,” she said. “Yes, I am.”

Jacob smiled. “Daniel told me that you did not know the identity of its giver, that you have a secret admirer on your hands.”

She blushed and did her best to glare righteously at him. “Do not tease, Father!”

He laughed outright then. “It is nothing to be ashamed of! I anonymously gave your mother many gifts in our courtship, and even after we were married. Though I am certain that she always knew it was me. Who else would have dared?”

“Well, then Mother had an advantage that I do not,” Samantha told him. “She knew her admirer. He has sent me nothing else since the Solstice, nothing that could even hint to his identity.”

Jacob took a final sip of his own beverage and then made to stand. “Well, if you wish to know the identity of this mysterious giver, then I suggest you begin with the necklace itself.” With a last smile, he rested his hand briefly on her shoulder before he left.

Samantha watched him go, sighing in frustration. Her father’s comments were hardly the first she had endured from her acquaintances since the Solstice celebration a few weeks before. Daniel, Jack, Elizabeth, Laura, Kate, and even Lord George had all taken moments to tease her. It was all in good fun, of course, but their teasing only served to increase her own curiosity.

Her fingers brushed over the charm again and she pursed her lips. Enough of this. She wanted to know, if only for her own sake. Thor could afford to wait for another day and Master McKay needed to learn to deal with his own paperwork. She was assisting him with the reconstruction project, but she was not his personal secretary.

* * *

Rodney McKay was not at all pleased. The weather in Atlantis was atrocious and it was interfering with his work. There was only so much he could do with his sketches and designs at this stage of the construction, so he was quickly running out of things to occupy his time.

His bad mood did not abate when Lady Samantha appeared at the door of his work room. Not opening the door further to allow her entrance, he asked petulantly, “Is there something specific I can do for you, my lady?”

Her smile was far brighter than normal, which immediately made Rodney suspicious. She never pasted that expression on her face unless she had something particularly unpleasant or irritating to inform him about. Before she spoke, however, she firmly stepped closer to him, forcing him to either more back or have her slam directly into him. Grudgingly, he opted for the former option.

Samantha swept past him and it was then that Rodney noticed that her arms were full of a substantial stack of papers. She moved to the center of the room where there was a large table already covered with other papers and instruments, and she set her burden down.

“What are you doing?” Rodney demanded, hurrying over. “Be careful! Those plans took months to develop! If -”

“Master McKay,” she cut him off with exaggerated patience, “calm yourself. I am aware of how valuable your work is to this project. These papers will not harm them.”

He glared at her. She was laughing at him, he thought. “What can I do for you then, Lady Samantha?” he inquired stiffly.

He felt marginally satisfied when she shot him an aggravated look before forcing herself to ignore his baiting. “These are the various requisitions that need to be filled out and filed, as well as the more detailed reports that are required for Lord Jonathan’s office and the Queen’s files. I have organized them all by how urgent they need to be completed.”

Rodney blinked. “W-What?” he stammered. “What is this about? Is it not your duty to perform as liaison between this project and her Majesty’s government?”

Samantha stared at him sternly. “That is correct, Master McKay. However, the government needs more detailed reports than I can provide. Only you have what they need at this point, so it falls to you.” She nodded politely. “Enjoy yourself.”

He watched her go, his mouth hanging open in shock. He was horrible at maintaining the records the queen required, to the point where Samantha had all but taken over the task from him. Now she was suddenly dropping all this work at his feet? “Wait!” he called out somewhat desperately.

She turned back, surprise lighting her pale features slightly. “Yes?”

“Where are you going? Certainly we could finish this much more quickly if we worked together?”

Samantha shook her head, and he did not miss the hint of glee in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Master McKay, but I have something of a personal nature to deal with this afternoon.” And with that, she was gone, the door closing heavily behind her.

Rodney stared at the paperwork forlornly. What was she up to?

* * *

Samantha walked through the public corridors of the palace, which were quite crowded compared to the corridors that were a part of the private wings. Though the place was always full of people, it seemed even more so due to the storm rumored to be approaching. Courtiers and servants all mingled together freely, all hurrying as quickly as possible to get to their respective destinations and out of the chilly hallways. She had her own destination in mind, it was just a matter of threading through the large multitudes.

“Samantha!”

She glanced over her shoulder and saw Lord Jonathan hurrying toward her. When he fell into step beside her she nodded to him. “Jack.”

“Going somewhere?” he asked, though the answer was obvious.

“Yes, actually,” Samantha replied tartly. “Are you?”

The older man nodded. “Her Majesty is due to hear a report about the defenses along the Talas.” He rolled his eyes, his voice dropping lower to avoid being overheard. “Rumors abound and to hear several of the lords tell it, the Goa’uld are due to appear out of the foothills to kill us all in our sleep any day now.”

Samantha snorted. Jack didn’t have to tell her which lords were sprouting that piece of propaganda. Lord Robert Kinsey was still residing in his eastern lands, but many men of his inner circle, most notably Lord Samuels, were likely under standing orders from him to raise as much anxiety in the college as possible while he was gone.

Out loud she said only, “Given that the mountains serve as the barrier between Neill and Goa’uld territory, I would think that the defenses are in excellent condition. You’ve kept them very well-manned and supplied, and I’m sure that Charles keeps a close watch himself.”

Something in Jack’s eyes darkened slightly at the mention of his son, but he agreed tersely. “I receive weekly reports from the various outposts, sometimes more so if they believe there is a problem. There have been no signs of incursions of any kind in nearly five months now.” He turned to look directly at her and abruptly changed the subject. “Will you be turning over those reports and lists on the construction project soon? My bookkeepers’ whining is beginning to grate,” he said.

Samantha laughed. “Everything they need has been turned over to Master McKay. You can tell them that he will complete them and send them along as soon as they are finished. If they know whose hands the papers are in, they can hound him directly.”

The older man’s eyes twinkled teasingly. “Lady Samantha Carter, are you shirking your duties by foisting them off on our distinguished Iolanian shipwright?”

She looked at him innocently. “I wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing, my lord of Neill. I assure you this is nothing like the time when I skipped my lessons with Master Thor so that I could join her Majesty on that picnic down the beach.”

A rueful smile crossed Jack’s face at the memory of that escapade of the queen’s a few years before. He nodded. “Good.” They came upon one of the conference rooms then and spotted several of the black-clad royal guards. Jack bade her farewell and made a beeline for the men, one of whom Samantha recognized as Captain Lorne. She did not join them, however, and instead continued on her way. Should there be any real news of the Goa’uld, her father would learn of it in any case. The thought of another war was worrisome, as everyone in the palace was aware that Atalan was hardly fit to face a serious threat just now.

But thinking of the ships slowly beginning to take shape in the yards, which she had a hand in creating, made Samantha confident that when the next threat came, they would be ready to answer it.

* * *

The royal jeweler was perhaps one of the most secure occupations within the court. No matter how dismal or dreary the atmosphere of the palace became, there were always lords and ladies of the court eager to throw their coins into having their jewels molded and set by the same craftsman employed by the royal family.

When Samantha cautiously entered the large set of rooms set aside for the jeweler to ply his trade, she was surprised to see only Madame Saroosh, the jeweler’s mother, present. The old lady had great skill in jewelry herself, and had trained her only son in the craft after the death of her husband. She had obviously taught him well, given that he had been employed by the royal family while still a relatively young man. Most craftsman were well into middle age before they received a permanent kind of employment.

Hearing the approaching footsteps, Saroosh looked up from the table she was sitting at, her matronly face intent on a bracelet she must have been working on. “Lady Samantha,” she said, clearly surprised, “good day to you.” She tried to stand, but Samantha hurriedly motioned for her to remain seated.

“Good day to you, Madame Saroosh,” she replied. “Please, don’t trouble yourself on my account.”

The older woman nodded her thanks and settled back onto the bench. “It is not often we see you in here,” she commented. “One of your dear lady mother’s pieces hasn’t been damaged, I hope?”

Samantha shook her head. “No, no, nothing like that.” She smiled wryly. “After the lecture you gave me when I broke the clasp on her sapphire pendant, I have always done my best to be extremely careful when dealing with all of the pieces.”

Saroosh nodded approvingly, her clear blue eyes warm. “It’s wonderful to hear that you took my instructions to heart,” she said. “So is there something you wish my son to procure for you?”

For a moment, Samantha hesitated. She knew that she could count on the discretion of both Saroosh and her son, but things so often had a way of getting out and becoming the topic for every wagging tongue in the palace. Right now the most popular subject was the supposed love affair happening between Sir John and Kate and although Samantha sympathized, she had no desire to replace them.

She would just have to hope that this entire mystery could be settled quietly. “I… received a necklace at Solstice,” Samantha explained, lowering her voice slightly. “It was left with no note, no clue as to its giver, and I truly wish to know who bestowed such a beautiful ornament on me. I thought perhaps that there might be some clue in the necklace’s design.”

Saroosh nodded, her wrinkled face thoughtful. “That is an excellent supposition, my lady,” she said. “If I may see the necklace of which you speak, I may be able to identify its maker to you, if you’d like.”

“Oh! Of course,” Samantha replied, flushing a bit. She reached behind her neck and grasped the clasp. Removing the necklace, she held it out to Saroosh, who immediately held it up close to her face and began examining the snowflake charm.

Samantha watched the old lady as she ran her fingers over it gently, nodding slightly to herself and even muttering on occasion. After several more moments of silence, Saroosh looked up at her.

“Well, given the fine engraving of the ship on the center of the snowflake, I would definitely say that this little piece’s origin is Iolan,” she informed her. “Even though our own capital lies here on an island, we Atalanians have never placed such emphasis on our sailing vessels enough to symbolize them in our jewelry.”

Saroosh took that moment to stand up from her work bench. Grasping her cane, which had been leaning against the wall beneath one of the large windows, she walked over to one of the other tables, this one covered in various scrolls and other papers. To Samantha’s eyes, it all looked completely unorganized, but there must have been some logic to it, for Saroosh was easily able to pick out the scroll she was looking for.

Unrolling the parchment, she again took up her explanation. “I know of only a few engravers in Iolan who could have done such extraordinary craftsmanship: Percival of Tarlin and Alexandros of Roma. The latter, however, is largely retired and leaves most of the work to his sons, instead spending most of his time spoiling his granddaughters,” she said, chuckling. “We old ones should all be so fortunate. Percival of Tarlin, on the other hand, still does the occasional engraving on jewelry every now and then. But from what I can see here, my lady, this is no newly-engraved piece.” Saroosh ran her old fingers over the design. “If you look closely, you can see that the edges of the engraving are smoothed over, not sharp from a recent carving. This has been complete for some time. Percival for many years has taken special commissions for various wealthy families of Iolan, the Kusaganis, the Petrovis, the McKays, the -”

Samantha looked up sharply. “Wait,” she interrupted, “did you say the McKays?”

Saroosh nodded, looking at her curiously. “Yes indeed, my lady. The McKays, while not the most influential family, are still a fine and upstanding clan.”

Samantha struggled not to remain composed as her mind worked furiously. Straightening up, she said, “Thank you, Madame Saroosh. You’ve been most helpful. I believe I know where I can go from here.”

The old woman eyed her uncertainly, but slowly nodded and set the scroll down. “Of course, my lady. I am delighted to be of some service to you,” she replied. After handing the necklace back to her, Samantha bowed her head and walked out. She could feel Saroosh’s sharp gaze on her back, but her mind raced with possibilities.

* * *

Rodney was at his wits’ end. Having always despised paperwork, he found that his feelings had not changed at all since the last time he’d been forced to endure it. He glared at the papers still stacked before him. He knew that the only way to return to his designs and other works was to go through the papers and deliver them where they needed to be, never mind that he had done every possible calculation and sketch conceivable at this point. By far Rodney preferred to stare at his own papers than the bureaucratic drivel Samantha had left for him.

Just as he was about to pick up his quill to end his procrastination, the door flew open and the lady in question entered at a quick pace, her expression a mixture of conflicting emotions.

Rodney stared at her, raising an eyebrow. “In a hurry, my lady?” he asked dryly.

Samantha did not deign to reply to his little quip. Instead, she simply said, “Do you know what this is?” And she held up her hand, completely outstretched. In it was the snowflake pendant.

Rodney froze. He said nothing, just stared. He was not someone who dealt easily with members of the opposite gender, and had no wish to make a fool of himself and give her a chance to ridicule him. So he had given her the necklace anonymously. But she was here now displaying it right under his very nose.

“Master McKay? Samantha prompted.

“It’s… ah,” he stammered, “It appears to be a necklace.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, it is a necklace. How very astute of you,” she said. Samantha maintained her neutral expression for a moment, and then dropped it for a more inquisitive one. “You gave this to me on Solstice.” It wasn’t a question and Rodney didn’t think that denying it would go over very well with her.

Panic began to seize him. To be perfectly honest, Rodney had not considered the possibility that Samantha might have been able to discover that he had given her the necklace. After all, he had left it when he was certain no one was present to observe his movements. How anyone could get past such careful planning… but she had and he had no ready explanation to give her.

For several moments, she appeared to wait for him to say something. When he did not, she finally continued. “If I have learned anything at all since we were introduced, Master McKay, it is that you do nothing without serious consideration beforehand,” she informed him quietly. Her blue eyes stared into his curiously. “I have never perceived that you have had any particular regard for me, so why would you give me such a beautiful gift?” A vein of suspicion entered her gaze. “Would it be because you wished to amuse yourself by watching me dash about the palace attempting to unravel the mystery?”

“I am not as cruel as all that, my lady,” he replied, startled by her accusation. “I simply-”

“Not cruel?” she cut him off, irritation starting to color her tone. “With all due respect, Rodney McKay, you take every opportunity you can to be cruel. You have no respect for those around you and you make your contempt for all of us quite clear.”

Rodney jerked in shock and his eyes narrowed. That was really quite unfair of her.

“I have no use for such little trinkets,” he snapped unthinkingly. “Pretty though it is, it’s not at all practical to be carrying it about. You are the only lady I know at all beyond a superficial acquaintance, so I thought you’d do for it,” he sniffed haughtily.

At first, her only response to his hasty outpouring of words was to blink rapidly. It was only later that he recognized that silence coming from Samantha Carter was never a good thing.

“So,” she said at last, her voice frigid, “you only wished to relieve yourself of a silly little piece of jewelry and thought me a good enough place to do so?”

Rodney paused for a moment, gauging her tone, and then he cursed silently. His hasty words had been perhaps unduly harsh and now the lady’s temper had been roused. He struggled to think of something, anything to say that would assuage her pride, but his frantic grasping came to nothing.

Her hand holding the necklace closed into a fist, hiding it from view. Rodney watched her place her fingers on the table, but was quickly distracted by her next words. “I am sorry to disappoint you, Master McKay,” she ground out angrily, “but I am not a woman inclined to serve as a convenience for unpleasant, foolish men. I will not keep you further from your work. I shall see you when we are able to resume the constructions. Good day to you.” Samantha turned swiftly on her heel and stormed out of the room.

For several moments, Rodney stared at the door, absolutely livid. Did she truly think so little of him? Did she actually believe he had dumped such a precious heirloom on her merely out of convenience? Granted, she did not know the necklace’s true significance, but really… He pursed his lips in irritation. He knew people tended to believe the worst of others, he himself was often guilty of that sin, but he had thought that she was different. It seemed not.

Attempting to dismiss her completely from his mind, Rodney turned away from the door and back to the table. Just as he was about to return to the papers that had lain there, forgotten, during the confrontation, something sparkled, catching his eye.

It was the snowflake charm, lying there on the pile of papers Samantha had delivered to him earlier that day, with the thin silver chain almost completely obscuring the ship engraving.


End file.
